Road King

Back on the bike — Day 2: My hiney hates me. It dreamt of sitting on the soft, wide seat of a Harley Road King instead of the thin, hard saddle on my Dean Titanium. My prostrate filed a law suit against me — charging abuse — while my legs looked longingly at the graves as I rode by the cemetery on Old Church Road, envious of the souls resting in them. Now my bones, muscles and joints are conspiring against me. I reminded my body that we have been through this many times before, and that all parts airing their grievances will soon come round and be happy that I’m riding again. They’ll come round eventually, but they’re determined to make me suffer in the meantime!  BTW The Jack Rabbit was a no show.

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